I Keep Seeing a Maiden
by The-Grim-Prince
Summary: Germany is suffering from a bad headache, images and foreign memories and thoughts bothering him. Prussia is intent on suppressing them, like he has for so many years. But Italy finds out setting the course for old promises to resurface. HRE/GermanyxItaly
1. Chapter 1

(( I just had this idea. This is my take on what would happen if Germany was to remember…

Well, you'll have to keep reading!

Fanfic… Commence! ))

:::

"He's mad at you and doesn't want to see you," Prussia insensitively lied, glaring down at Northern Italy from the front doorway frame of Germany's house. The Italian had shown up with a worried expression and a suitcase, most likely containing some sort of pasta fixings assortment.

"H-he is?" Veneciano asked, looking a little downtrodden. "But Germany hasn't shown up to drill in a few days. He wouldn't miss something important like that."

"Yeah, well you were so annoying and useless that West needed to take a break for a bit. He doesn't want to see you," Gilbert persisted with a dark expression. No meant no.

Italy looked down to the front steps that he stood at the foot of, thinking for a few seconds. He silently turned around and retreated back to his car, heaving a depressed sigh.

It felt much like kicking a puppy. Whatever. Prussia stayed standing there to make sure that the annoyance actually left. He would not let Italy in, especially not now. His grip on the doorknob tightened in anger at the fact that he had come.

Prussia wouldn't let anyone see his momentarily debilitated brother. Deep down, he was afraid of all his progress being undone. Of losing his pawn. Of Italy stealing Germany away. Gilbert had spent years - beyond years - of working on forming Germany, he wasn't going to let him revert back to… that.

As the car pulled away and out of the driveway, Prussia finally stepped back into his brother's house. He quietly closed the door behind him, passing one last disdainful frown in the direction that Veneciano had been standing. Getting over the minor ordeal, he made his way back down the hallways to Ludwig's room. Prussia cracked the door open and slipped in without knocking first.

Germany was still in bed, just barely asleep. He would grimace or wince once in a while, a bit red in the face. Gilbert stood beside him, taking the (now warm) washcloth off his forehead to re-soak it in cool water placed in a bowl on the bedside table. He then replaced it, being as ginger as possible. His brother was trying to sleep off the pain of an intense headache, doing so for the past two days.

This happened once in a long while. He would start acting a bit confused, and have strange memories that he wasn't sure was his. Germany would get so worn out, trying to figure out what his mind was trying to do. He would sit around in deep thought as the inside of his head would start to pound harder and harder. He would ask his brother questions about himself, puzzled by things that would suddenly surface in his mentality.

And every time, Prussia was prepared.

He still hated it. Although he was genuinely concerned about the well-being and health of West, he couldn't help but work hard to keep anything from giving away what was erased.

That 30 Years War was a godsend. Despite the fact that it ended so long ago, Gilbert wasn't ready to end reaping the benefits.

…

Later that afternoon, Veneciano quietly made his way around the outside of Germany's house. If it was one thing he was good at, it was sneaking around. This talent being built up from the many times he tried to avoid fighting in the war.

He couldn't just give up. If Germany was mad at him, he would do something to try to make him happy again. Italy carried an envelope in his pocket with a piece of paper inside, stating, "Coupon! One dinner with wurst for free. Along with pasta."

It was partially Japan's suggestion. Adding pasta to the dish was Veneciano's own touch, of course.

Finally, he came to Ludwig's bedroom window. Fortunately for him, it was on the first floor, even though the windowsill was about his neck-height from the ground. The plan was to sneak in without Prussia or Germany noticing, slip the envelope partially under the bed pillow, then go home and hope for the best. He didn't want his beloved Germany to be angry with him.

By another stroke of luck, the first being that he wasn't caught (yet), the window was unlocked and slightly cracked open to let in a breeze. Italy reached up to push the window open as far as he could, which would allow him to crawl through. With a determined nod, he planted his foot against the wall, jumped up and grabbed onto the windowsill with his arms. So far so good. He then brought up his knee higher to help push him up further as his hands pulled.

Haphazardly, he tumbled through and to the floor with a muffled thump. Veneciano whimpered, rubbing under the tip of his chin where it was slid across the carpet. But now was not the time to be dilly-dallying. He silently picked himself up and turned towards the bed.

Though, at the sight before him, Italy froze in his tracks. Ludwig was laying in bed, asleep. He didn't look angry, like Gilbert said.

Germany looked really sick.

He debated on what he should do next. Whatever it was, it would have to be fast. Before he was discovered.

Well, whether Ludwig was angry, upset, or ill, a nice meal would make him feel better. He would stick the original plan by sticking the envelope, now in his hand, under Germany's head to be found later.

As carefully as he could, Veneciano leaned over and very gradually started to slip the paper under the pillow. It was like escaping a landmine by sliding a rock where your foot would be to keep it from going off. Very slow and ready to explode at any second.

Suddenly, Ludwig cracked open one eye. Much to Italy's dismay, he looked over at him in recognition.

"E-eh! You were awake! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, please don't be mad at me, I was only trying to make you not mad at me or feel better, so I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset, please don't hurt me," Veneciano frantically tried to explain while keeping his voice down.

Without a word, Germany sat up, using one hand to keep the damp washcloth from falling off his throbbing temple. "Italy…"

"Y-yes?"

"… Quiet down a bit."

He flinched in return, then giving a nod in compliance.

"How long have… I been out?" Ludwig asked, glancing towards a nearby clock.

"You haven't been to drill in two days," Italy answered, trying to keep his explanations short and simple. "I'll go now. Germany has to get his rest, right?" He started to back away towards the window from whence he came.

Germany passed him a slight look of distress. "I don't want to be here," he unexpectedly said. "Please… take me with you."

The other nation stared at the pathetic man for a moment. Something about Ludwig was really different today. It wasn't just the fact that he was unusually vulnerable for once… There was something about his tone as his big blue eyes gazed at him pleadingly.

Though he knew that this could cause so much trouble for both himself and his friend, Italy nodded, looking a bit serious for once albeit a bit nervous. He went back to Germany's side as the other shakily started to slide himself out of bed. He was in clothes more fit for sleeping, loose pants and a white undershirt tank top without any socks or shoes on.

But any more time they spent there increased the risk of getting caught. Veneciano wrapped his arm around Germany's to help support him as they went towards the window, noting the warmth of his friend's skin. He used his free hand to push it open a bit more.

"I'll go first. So if you fall, I'll catch you," Italy proposed. Germany looked doubtful, but he leaned against the wall on his own anyways to let Italy go ahead. The smaller nation did so, jumping down lithely onto his feet. He then turned, loudly whispering, "It'll be fine!"

Why did those words sound so familiar? Dazed, Ludwig straddled the ledge, then brought his other leg over. Dizziness made the ground look so much farther away than it was. But his desire to leave home took over. He shimmied forward to edge off, but then slipped.

Italy jumped forward as Germany landed on his feet, yet started to sink to his knees as his head rewarded him with thunderous pain from the movement. Veneciano held him there for a moment as he let out a low groan and trembled a bit.

Now that he was outside, he could feel adrenaline from empowered forming. He got to his feet, now a bit covered in dirt, while keeping his balance. Italy promptly grabbed his arm and pulled Germany in the right direction. Ludwig did a good job of keeping up, despite the fact that he couldn't help but use a hand to clutch his head in soreness.

"Almost there," Veneciano encouraged quietly. The hardest part would be getting across the large front lawn unseen.

They rushed forward, Ludwig relying on Veneciano to lead him safely as the sun beat down into his eyes and worsened his headache.

His heart pumping wildly, Italy breathed a sigh of relief as they reached the street without Prussia coming after him. Only a block down the sidewalk was his car, parallel parked against the curb. He tugged the other in the right direction, noticing that Germany wouldn't last much longer.

Finally, they reached the car. Italy felt on top of the world right now. Germany didn't seem to be angry with him, and he had managed to outwit Gilbert. And his beloved Germany was coming home to stay with him. He opened the backseat door and guided Ludwig in. Fortunately, there was always a blanket in the back in case it was suddenly siesta time. He buckled Germany's seatbelt for him, and covered him with the blanket to keep him warm.

Soon, they were on the road, Veneciano driving a bit fast but careful at the same time.

"It's going to be fine, Germany! You can stay at my house until you feel better, and I'll make you dinner, and it'll be a sleepover…" He glanced into the rearview mirror with a smile, noticing that Ludwig had pulled the blanket up over his head like some sort of hood or shawl to block the sunlight from his eyes as he leaned back.

Italy couldn't help but worry, but he knew he could help Germany recuperate from whatever sickness this was.

What he failed to realize was that he left his special coupon half-stuck under the pillow back in Germany's room.

:::

(( That's the end of the first chapter! Oooh, cliffhanger… Don't forget to drop a review if you have the spare moment! ))


	2. Chapter 2

(( Hello! Next chapter! Yay!

No more chitchat. Chapter 2, commence! ))

:::

Italy brought Germany into his house safely. "Would you like to lay down on the couch, or in bed?" Italy asked.

"Whatever is closer," Germany quietly answered. That would be the couch in the living room. He wearily sat down, holding the blanket around him. The other brought a hand up to his forehead.

Veneciano noted how hot he felt, as Ludwig stared up at him. He took a seat beside him.

"Germany… what's wrong? Where does it hurt?" he asked.

"… My head," he answered. "I keep seeing things…"

"Maybe it's because you have a fever. I'll get you some cold lemonade, okay?" Veneciano suggested, standing up. He looked down at Ludwig, who had a disheartening expression of nervousness written all over his face.

Before leaving, Italy knelt down on the floor in front of him and grabbed Germany's ankles. He struggled to lift up his legs and shift them up onto the couch, using them to turn him to a laying down position across the furniture.

Italy smiled, then left him momentarily for the kitchen.

Now reclined on his back, Germany looked around the room. Italy's house was always very welcoming and comfortable. Stress, even Veneciano-induced, seemed to roll off his shoulders whenever he decided to visit. Though, he couldn't help but notice a few small stacks of junk laying around. Italy was lazy, but not untidy.

Veneciano came back with a glass of lemonade and a usual vacant smile occupying his face. "It's nice and cold from making it this morning," he said. He then noticed Germany's attention turned to the mess. Afraid of being chastised, he quickly added, "I was just going through lots of my old stuff! I'll throw away some and put away the rest! I'm sorry for not keeping my house clean."

His guest said nothing. Feeling a bit awkward, Italy helped him sit up a bit so he could take the glass and sip some of the juice down. Before he could lay back down, Veneciano slipped a fluffy pillow under Germany's head and shoulders to make him comfortable.

Italy took the glass back when he was done, even though it was only half empty. Germany lay back and sighed, relishing how nice and cool the pillow felt against his skin. His headache was dying down a bit, but it still throbbed once every five seconds or so.

"I think I might keep cleaning to get this stuff out of the way. Do you want to sleep somewhere quieter?" Italy offered.

Ludwig just slowly shook his head no.

Something was really wrong with his Germany. Italy was worried by how quiet and subdued he was. He could even be considered a bit clingy at the moment. It was really confusing, making Italy feel slightly disturbed.

Despite this sudden change, though, Ludwig was really important to him. No matter what was wrong with him.

Being that there was a considerably thick coat of dust on everything, Italy went to grab an apron and some dusting cloths.

Ready to bust some dust bunnies, he came back to head straight for the closest stack of stuff. A good majority of it was his old art supplies and pictures. Trying not to be too loud, he began to dust things off and organize them into a newly emptied closet in the hallway. Germany would close his eyes for a bit, then open them whenever Italy came back to move the next item.

Though, he suddenly couldn't bring himself to close his eyes again when Italy left. There was a picture leaning up against a trunk, revealed after several other things had been taken away.

It was very old. The canvas had stretched a bit and become loose over time, the markings fading a bit. Yet, the drawing was still relatively distinct. It appeared to be a sort of small child in laying down in maid's clothing, fast asleep. The picture was probably drawn with the maid unaware.

He heard a small cry of surprise as something down the hall toppled over. "Darn it…" Italy mumbled.

Germany slowly got up and made his way over to the picture, crouching down in front of it. Something about it… really intrigued him. He couldn't stop looking at it. Upon closer examination, he noticed that the sleeping maid had a small curl of hair, similar to Italy's.

Why? Why did this picture mesmerize him?

"Oh, you're up," Veneciano said. Ludwig looked over to notice that the Italian was now standing beside him. He craned his neck curiously to see what his guest was looking at. "That's one of the oldest pictures I own. But didn't draw it. It was left behind by someone a long time ago."

"You… liked it that much?" Germany softly let out, not even realizing what he was saying.

"It was from someone who was really important to me. I don't know if he noticed that he dropped it," he continued to admit, fiddling around nervously with a crease in his apron.

"_We have to go back! I dropped it!"_

"_We can't afford to turn around now, it's too dangerous."_

"_But what if I forget what she looks like?"_

"_If you really love someone, you'll never their face. Don't worry."_

"Ow… Ow…" Germany gasped with a grimace, holding his head with both hands in pain. Italy quickly caught him before he fell over from losing balance.

"Germany! What's wrong?" Italy frantically asked. Not gaining a response, he pulled him back over to the couch and laid him down. He rushed off to the kitchen, then came back with a small bag of ice.

Veneciano came back, and knelt beside Ludwig. He reached over to pull one of Germany's hands away from his forehead so he could carefully place the bag of ice there instead. Keeping hold of that hand, he stood a bit so he could sit on a small space on the couch next to Germany's hip. He reached over with his free hand to grab Germany's other one, which was holding his aching head.

Worriedly, Italy sat there beside his friend, holding both his hands so that he wouldn't hurt himself more. Remembering the times when his brother had developed a migraine, Veneciano used his thumb to stroke the back of Germany's hand, while holding on.

Fixating on that reassuring feeling of Italy's touch, Ludwig distracted himself from thinking about how much it hurt. Slowly, he started to calm down as the ice dulled the pain.

…

Italy was preparing dinner in the kitchen. He had left Germany in the living room to sleep in the meantime. He didn't like this illness that his friend had. Not at all. But he was going to help him get better again.

_You… liked it that much?_

Italy thought to himself, realizing that Germany had said that while he was explaining the picture. What did that mean? It wasn't a bad drawing at all. Did he not like it? And why did it seem that he knew what it was?

Whatever it was, he temporarily put it out of his mind to continue cooking. Italy had been experimenting with combining wurst and pasta. The first time wasn't so great, because he tried adding potatoes, too. But now, with the wurst chopped like sausages, and with the appropriate spices added to the sauce, it would work this time. For certain.

He finished everything, putting the boiled pot of pasta into a colander, then giving the sauce with wurst a quick stir while turning off the heat. Italy retrieved two plates to scoop some pasta onto. He then gave each a good amount of sauce on top. One had a bit more wurst on it than the other, made specially for Ludwig.

Veneciano took the plates into the dining room, where he had set the table nicely for the both of them. Before the food cooled down too much, he fast-walked to the living room. Cautiously, he placed a hand on his sleeping guest's shoulder to wake him up.

"Germany~ It's time for dinner," he happily and softly said.

Ludwig slowly came to, blinking in the light. "Alright," he responded. He sat up on his own and got to his feet. He followed Veneciano to the dining room. He paused a bit, noticing the hard work his host put into this supper, and then continued to sit down in the chair offered to him.

Italy took a seat across the table from Germany, looking a bit anxious. He wanted to know what the other thought about his new dish.

Germany hesitantly took a bite, a piece of pasta and meat on the end of his fork. The taste was so familiar… He realized that the meat was actually wurst. Eagerly, he took another bite, and another.

Italy beamed with pleasure, knowing that Ludwig liked it. He began to eat, too. He didn't like wurst as much, but anything tasted better when Germany was happy.

…

_Notice me… Notice me…_

Germany stared at Italy, reclining back a bit while sitting back on the couch. Veneciano decided to sweep up the dust off the floor where the pile of things used to be, before retiring to bed. He was back in his apron again, using his broom to move all the dust and dirt into a neat pile to be swept up later. He was a bit tired, spacing out while completing this task with his back to Germany.

_Please notice me?_

Without knowing why he did it, Ludwig reached out. He grasped a fold of the apron and tugged on it.

Instantly, Italy responded, "E-eh! I'm sorry, Holy Roma-" He stopped, realizing where he was when he turned around to face Germany.

Germany stared at him. "What… did you call me?"

"It was nothing, I was a bit dazed, so…" Italy trailed off, looking down into Germany's big, blue eyes. "Holy… Roman Empire," he couldn't help but answer.

Ludwig's eyes widened a bit. "That name… Say it again?" he requested, feeling like it wasn't himself speaking anymore.

"Holy Roman Empire," he repeated, frozen in place.

"Chibitalia," Germany responded, feeling like a door opened in his brain to let a flood of memories, previously locked up, flow through his mind.

His blue eyes, his blonde hair, those sideburns… "H-Holy Roman Empire," Italy repeated again, a smile spreading across his face.

"_Ta… daima_," Ludwig said in a distant voice, like he had said those many years ago. Instantly, Italy threw himself into Germany's arms, tears of happiness forming in the corners of his eyes.

"You're okay! I waited so long, Holy Roman Empire," he cried.

Ludwig felt his face heat up with a blush, ignoring his throbbing headache. "I promised I would be back. I'm sorry I took so long…"

"It's-"

Italy was suddenly cut off by the sound of someone pounding furiously on his front door.

Veneciano knew who it was.

:::

Sidenote: "Tadaima" is pretty much Japanese for "I'm home" or "I've arrived".

I hope you liked this chapter! Review if you get the chance.


	3. Chapter 3

(( Hello! Next chapter! It shall be interesting… Indeed. Only one more after this one!

Sorry this took a while to post! I did a complete turn around with some of my plans for my future, blah blah, you're probably not interested. I just wanted to apologize, and etc. Thank all things magical for summer…

By the way, there's another version of this chapter. It was bad, so I rewrote it. The contents of that chapter will be my secret, forever…

Awynays, Chapter 3 commence! ))

:::

Italy sat on Germany's lap, facing him with a hand gripping his shoulder. He could feel it getting harder to breathe, the fear of facing what was on the other side of that door chasing the air away. He knew exactly who it was.

Noticing the state of fright written all over his partner's face, Ludwig gave Veneciano a comforting hug. "It's okay," he quietly said. Easing Italy off his lap, he went to stand up. Germany used a hand to rake his messed-up hair back into his usual slick hairdo.

Italy stared up at the other. This man… He carried the intimidation of Holy Roman Empire, yet the strength of Germany. It was a scary combination, yet he somehow felt safe. Very safe.

"What about your headache? I don't want you to get hurt," Veneciano couldn't help but worry.

"I might be in a bit of pain… I may be a bit confused… I'm having a hard time fitting the pieces of my memory together… But I know that whether I'm Holy Roman Empire or Germany, I want to protect you," he admitted, a bit bashful.

"I know you're in there!" They heard Prussia shouting through the closed door. "Open the damned door before I bust it down!"

The threat had cut off anything the two wanted to share at that moment. As Ludwig's attention had turned in the direction of the door, he felt a hand lightly grab his arm. His gaze snapped right down, though the sudden movement didn't make the throbbing better.

Italy has moved to hold his forearm, seeking comfort, his face turned down to the floor. "You… don't have to go," he quietly said, his voice betraying him by giving a slight quiver. "We could run away. It's really easy, I know how to. …You don't have to answer the door. Please…"

Germany let out a pained sigh as he felt as though someone had wrapped their fingers around his heart and squeezed. Hard.

He used his free arm's hand to place a reassuring touch on Italy's hand. "…I won't run." Italy's tearing eyes looked up to meet his in surprise, sadness, and fear. Germany continued, "There was this one time that I ran away. A long, long time ago. It was the biggest mistake that I ever made."

At his face went a bit redder, he abruptly turned away to go answer to his irate brother. Germany felt something light fall against his back and follow him. Despite the fact that Ludwig was a bit sweaty, Italy had joined him by clinging to his back, keeping a loose grip on a fold in the other's tank top. Both couldn't help but crack a slight smile, though neither could see it, during this situation.

Italy flinched as he heard the sound of the door's lock being unlatched by Ludwig.

Gathering the courage to defend what he had wrongfully left behind so long ago, Holy Roman Empire opened up the barrier that was separating him and the man who sheltered him after the 30 years war.

Gilbert stood there in front of him, looking extremely upset. His expression softened a little when he saw that it was his brother who came to answer him. Yet, he remained steadfast in his resolution to stop this nonsense.

"You're awake," he said with a grin like that of a madman trying to sway company to his side. "I was afraid that something bad would happen to you."

Ludwig's eyes narrowed. "What sort of bad?" he asked.

Prussia didn't like the look in Ludwig's eyes. Not at all. "You were sick in bed. I came back and you were gone. Wouldn't any brother be worried?" he persuaded him.

"And how did you know I was here?"

With a frown, Gilbert dug his hand into his pocket. He pulled a scrap of paper with Italy's signature on it, and swiftly tossed it to the ground at the other's feet with a disdainful look. He stared at the man hiding behind Germany, who was avoiding eye contact at all costs. "Wild guess," Prussia answered sarcastically, turning his attention back to West. "Now, won't you come home? I know how to take care of you."

"Like you have… for all these years," Ludwig let out. There was something in his tone…

"Yes…"

"Taking care of me, huh? Taking care of my memories, too," he replied, glaring at his older brother.

Prussia grimaced, knowing he had been caught. Somehow… somehow he had remembered?! He thought of a response quickly. "I was just trying to help you. You were such a mess back then. Whenever you start to remember something, you are put through so much pain. I was trying to help."

"What do you mean?" Ludwig asked. "You weren't helping me, you were making me forget my past. You made me forget who I am! I am Holy Roman Empire! I may have become Germany, but that didn't mean that you had to suppress my memories!"

"Look," Gilbert interjected, with a frightening amount of anger and acid put into one small word. "I didn't just suddenly wipe your memory. You forgot your past by yourself. I only came and picked up the pieces, making you something bigger and better. I may have tried to prevent you from remembering things during the little 'episodes' that followed that. I admit that. But you were much better off forgetting what you left behind."

Germany felt Italy sag a bit behind him, not saying a word. "Brother…" he tried to argue.

"You were better off forgetting, and just staying that way! You didn't need to be that whiny little brat anymore, I gave you more important things," Gilbert went on, looking dangerous.

"You can't just make people forget who they are. You held a big piece of me away. That's unforgivable," Ludwig determined, asserting himself.

Something in Prussia snapped. He wore an expression of pure fury as he saw what he had built up come crashing down. In a very sudden movement, he had reached under Ludwig's arm to grab Veneciano's head, bury fingers into his hair, and yank him out into the open.

He gave a harsh cry of pain as he stumbled forward. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't kill me! I'll do anything!" Italy pleaded.

Tired of his sickeningly annoying voice, Gilbert threw him downwards by his grip on his hair right before West could seize him. Veneciano hit the stone hard with a horrible thud and went still. "It's your fault!" Prussia shrieked as Ludwig fell forward a bit too late to catch his partner.

He stood over him, unsure of what to do. Well, one thing immediately came to mind. Germany quickly straightened back, grabbed Gilbert by the collar, and punched him in the jaw as hard as he could.

Prussia staggered backwards, managing to stay on his feet somehow. He had a look of shock and surprise written all over his paling face as he stared up at Ludwig, a drop of blood escaping his split lip. This was the last thing he expected. The very last thing. No, he didn't even consider that West would try to hurt him. The thought never crossed his mind.

Yet he felt the stinging and the ache from the punch as his brother was kneeling over that damned Italian.

"West," he let out, not willing to accept this.

"Go away. I'm not your toy anymore," he instantly received as a reply. Ludwig didn't even look at him when he said that.

His own adopted brother was collecting Veneciano gently into his arms to carry him back inside. Gilbert tried to tell him to wait, but his voice seemed to leave him. For the first time, Ludwig had his back turned to him as he slowly walked back into Italy's house.

Germany left him behind, closing the door behind himself while being careful not to drop the other. Maybe… he would consider talking to Gilbert again. After he cooled down. Although Holy Roman Empire was seething, Germany couldn't help but think about who took care of him all this time. It took a lot of control not to open the door again.

Though, he felt his heart skip a beat in fear. Veneciano was unconscious, a drop of blood escaping from a scuff on his forehead from hitting the ground so hard.

Holy Roman Empire was panicking, while Germany knew what to do in this sort of situation. It was so hard to balance things. Holy Roman Empire kept him from opening the door again, but Germany was keeping him from freaking out and hurting Italy more. He knew that he had changed from that personality, but now it was resurfacing after not seeing the light of day for so long.

Ludwig carefully walked to the bathroom down the hall. As soon as he was in, though it killed him to do so, he sat Veneciano down on the floor to lean back against the edge of his tub. Germany went to rummage around in the cabinets to find the first aid kit. He found it, using some sterilizing ointment and a bandaid to cover the small lesion. Ludwig left momentarily to grab some ice, wrap it in a clean dishtowel, and bring it back.

As gingerly as he could, he held the makeshift pack of ice over the bump forming on Italy's upper forehead. He stayed like that for a few minutes, staring at the other with intense worry.

Finally, Veneciano stirred. He winced a bit, then cracked open his eyes to look at Germany. "I'm sorry," he quietly whined, making the other realize that he was coherent. "I made Prussia mad… And I was knocked out… And you're taking care of me even though you're sick," he quietly said.

Ludwig took away the ice, and went to embrace Italy, who was limp in return. "No, it's okay. I'm alright," he said, even though his headache had worsened a bit over that commotion. "Don't be sorry."

Veneciano sighed dejectedly. He couldn't do anything for his beloved Holy Roman Empire… It was so disappointing.

"Are you alright? Should I take you to a doctor? You might get a concussion," Ludwig offered.

"No, I'm okay," Italy quietly said. "… I'm sorry."

Germany gave him a light shake. "Didn't I tell you to stop it? I'm sorry about my brother." That was one thing he had trouble letting go of. Prussia wasn't really his brother. He was so used to calling him that. Should he stop now?

"I'm tired," Veneciano said. He looked up with his reassuringly vacant smile. "Carry me."

Ludwig looked a bit surprised. This sent his two sides into turmoil again. Nonetheless, he scooped up Italy and stood up, his partner wrapping his arms around his neck.

…

Germany had taken Italy to his bed. He helped him get comfortable by taking off his nice pants and unbuttoning his shirt. Holy Roman Empire was getting really riled up and embarrassed, though his modern self was used to such a thing. That still didn't keep a heavy blush from spreading across his face.

"Where are you going?" Italy asked as the other was going to leave.

"I'm going to sleep," he simply answered, looking confused.

His host shook his head in displeasure. "You can't take one more step. You look so exhausted, you're going to fall over again," he said. "Come sleep with me."

Ludwig looked really taken aback. The side of him that wasn't used to having his privacy invaded was surprised beyond belief. "B-but-"

Veneciano grabbed onto his arm and pulled back as hard as he could. As tired and as ill as he felt, Germany wasn't able to resist. He fell down on the bed beside Italy, who in turn got up and adjusted him into a comfortable position. He then lay back down and pulled the covers over the both of them.

Ludwig was as tense as he could be, looking so shy and embarrassed through the dark. Italy reached up to feel the other's forehead.

"You're still feverish. I might take you to the doctor tomorrow," he playfully threatened, copying what his guest had said in the bathroom earlier. Ludwig just stiffly nodded in return.

With a worried sigh, Veneciano cuddled up to him. Yet, he couldn't help but feel better right away. For he knew that right in front of him was his first love. Holy Roman Empire had come back to him. And even better, he was Germany!

With another sigh, this time of contentment, he started to drift off to sleep.

A minute or two passed until Ludwig let out, "… Chibitalia?"

"Hn?" he mumbled in return as a response.

"Well… would you… um…… If I wasn't Holy Roman Empire, or if I hadn't remembered… would you still love me? Would you love… Germany?" he very hesitantly and quietly asked.

Veneciano woke right back up, and looked up at the man who was avoiding eye contact. He was silent for an agonizing moment or two.

"Yes," he answered with warmth that radiated like the sun. "Germany has always been there for me. Yet, I will always love Holy Roman Empire. It's confusing… But I love Ludwig no matter who he is."

Ludwig smiled with relief, and with happiness as Italy snuggled up against him again, this time to really fall asleep.

Through his shyness, he went to wrap an arm around his partner as he gave a slight snore.

The headache pain was lessening, allowing his to fall asleep peacefully in no time.

:::

(( Only one more chapter after this! Don't worry; I'll get it posted quicker this time. See you then! ))


	4. Chapter 4

(( The last chapter! Chapter 4! It's going to be quite interesting. I hope that you all enjoy it!

Pardon me for saying so, but I would truly appreciate it if you dropped a review my way, even if it's short. This is probably one of the stories that I put the most effort into, and I would really love to hear what you all have to say about it. If you have the spare time, thank you very much!

Well, let's get it started already! Onwards! And thank you for being great readers!

Chapter 4, commence! ))

:::

Italy lay in bed quietly the next morning, just staring at Ludwig as he slept. He was resting quite peacefully, his face not flushed with fever anymore. It must have broken during the night.

Though, yesterday's events ran through Veneciano's mind incessantly, reviewing over all the turmoil that had taken place. He knew that things would be different now. There was no avoiding the conflict that Prussia would probably stir up, and how the other nations would handle the fact that Germany was once Holy Roman Empire.

Yet at the same time, he felt warm. Not just from being so physically close to the man, but from knowing that his beloved Holy Roman Empire was alive and well. There was often a time when Veneciano would stop to think about his first love. He would wonder what happened, and if he was okay. And if he still loved his Chibitalia. He did wonder if the pushy boy was going to come back to him, or if he even wanted to. Italy was sure to shake away that insecurity, feeling bad for doubting Holy Roman Empire.

At the same time, Veneciano felt a little bit mixed over Germany and Holy Roman Empire being the same. He did love Holy Roman Empire. And Germany was secretly really special to him. He just didn't know if he should like one or the other. It made him happy that they were the same person, but it was strange how different they could be. Did Ludwig just recover his memories, or did he now have two personalities?

He thought to himself for a while, then realized something. Veneciano wiggled a bit upwards so his head was higher up on the pillow. He noted with glee that it seemed that Ludwig was shorter than him, looking down at his sleeping face. Feeling a bit more peaceful now, he lifted his head a bit to kiss Germany on the cheek. Laying in bed, the wall of 8cm was gone.

Though, he felt a bit bad for taking advantage of the situation as he saw the other's eyes slowly open. He didn't mean to wake him up…

Veneciano watched Germany with a smile as he squinted a bit from the morning light let in through the window. He looked a bit tired from just waking up, but his overall condition had seemed to improve.

"Italy…" he started to say while looking a little displeased. Ludwig then looked around the room. "I'm… not at home?"

Veneciano's expression turned into puzzlement. "Of course not, silly."

His guest sat up, holding a hand to his head. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, realizing that he was in his clothes for resting. Italy watched him quietly as he left the room. In suspicion, the Italian went to follow him, being led to the bathroom. He stood in the doorway as Germany washed his face.

"Um… Holy Roman Empire… About last night," he started to say, wondering what they would do about Gilbert.

Ludwig's attention snapped back up to his host, looking a bit confused. "What was that?" he asked.

"What?"

"What you called me."

Italy suddenly felt a heavy lurch in his chest. No… It couldn't be… "Holy Roman Empire," he quietly said, with a hint of begging and fear in his tone.

Germany raised an eyebrow at him quizzically. After a pause, he asked, "Italy, are you feeling okay?"

Everything went blank for a second. Veneciano shifted his gaze to the floor with a slight tremble, feeling his heart sinking down into his stomach as his body went cold.

Seeing that something was obviously wrong, Ludwig came to stand in front of him, taking hold of Italy's shoulders for support. He realized that there was a small bump and a bandaid on his forehead. "What's wrong? Did I say something wrong? What happened?" he demanded to know.

"Last night, you came over because you were sad, and your head hurt so you laid down, and there was dinner, then you saw the picture and then started to remember, and there was the knocking on my door, and you took care of things, and you asked… you asked me…" Italy tried to explain, feeling his throat choking up.

Ludwig was unable to make any sense out of the explanation. It really worried him. He placed a hand on Veneciano's forehead to check if he was running a temperature, while suggesting, "Maybe you should go back to bed for a while."

Italy backed up quickly, breaking away from the other's grip. He ran away towards the living room. As Germany stepped out of the bathroom, he was back in an instant. He lifted up an old and tattered drawing on canvas, holding it in front of Ludwig's face.

"Do you remember this?" he frantically asked.

Germany eyed it nervously, then slowly shook his head 'no'. Trying to keep his host from getting too upset, he complimented, "It's a nice picture, though. Did you draw it?"

Veneciano felt the portrait slip out of his hands and fall to the floor, though he didn't mean to do so. He felt his vision go blurry as hot tears started to form. "H-holy Roman E-e-empire," he quietly sobbed.

"What's wrong?" Germany asked, now very worried. "Did you hit your head very hard last night? I can take you to the hospital, right now! I think we should go get you checked out."

Instead of an answer, Italy just stepped forward and fell to lean against Ludwig's chest. He cried and cried as Germany looked down at him. Then, with a blush on his face, he wrapped his arms around the Italian. Being so forward felt a bit awkward, but somehow, this felt so… right.

Veneciano eventually calmed down, sniffling. "Germany, do you remember that you were sick? You haven't been to drill for three days now."

Ludwig jumped a little bit in surprise, realizing it. "I remember now! Damn, what will Japan think?"

Italy stepped backwards to free Germany from holding him. He took a shaky breath, and then said, "We still have time for one."

"Yeah," Germany agreed. "I don't think you should be driving today. I'll borrow your car to go get a change of clothes from my house, then come to pick you up, okay?"

Veneciano nodded in return. Ludwig walked away to the coat closet, where he had left a spare pair of boots and a coat a long while ago, just in case. Italy had slowly and quietly came to watch him as he pulled on the articles of clothing. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Germany was in too much of a rush to notice.

Soon, Ludwig was heading to leave through the front door.

But before he could go, Italy stopped him with a hesitant, "U-um…"

Germany held up, and turned around to look at the man who had apparently helped him through his illness yesterday.

Veneciano was quiet for a few seconds, but then continued his thought. "Even if… Even if Holy Roman Empire doesn't remember who he is… And Germany is Germany again… I'll still always love him. I love both… A-and I'll wait for the day where he'll remember everything, and comes back to me. …I'll wait. No matter how long it takes… I promise that I'll be there, and I'll be happy to welcome him back." Veneciano felt tears cloud his vision again, but he quickly wiped them away himself so he could give Ludwig a comforting, warm smile of hope.

Germany stared at him, completely unsure of what to say. He was silent for a minute, frozen in place. "Italy……." He finally started to say. "Anyone would be happy to be welcomed by your smiling face. I… would." He went a bit red, the last things he said spoken in a mutter.

As his big blue eyes shifted sideways to look at Italy nervously as he scratched the back of his head, Veneciano thought his stare looked familiar. It was just like all of the shy gazes he was given to in the past by his first love.

He finally realized something.

Holy Roman Empire never left him. And he wasn't leaving him again. He was there all along, even though Chibitalia was something from a fading dream. And Holy Roman Empire would be there for him still, even though he might not realize it.

"Hurry up, we're going to be late," Italy ushered with his bubble-headed smile.

"Italy wanting to go to drill. Something odd must have happened last night," Ludwig quietly thought aloud to himself. He gave a curt nod as Veneciano smiled, then left through the front door.

…

…

All he could do was sulk around, with a major hangover from drinking last night. Usually drinking plenty of beer made any sort of pain vanish, even if it was just for a little while. But last night was different.

Drink after drink, Prussia realized more and more just how deeply West had cut him. It hurt so much… And everyone as the bar could tell that something had happened between them, judging by the fact that the two weren't together. And Gilbert was suddenly a weepy drunk for the very first time.

He laid back on the couch of Germany's house in the dark. Although he thought it would kill him to do so, he was going to apologize.

Though, he realized he would have to mental prep fast, as he heard the front door open. Prussia winced as the living room light was turned on, bringing an arm up to shield his tired eyes from the brightness.

"Brother?" he heard. Ludwig quickly walked to his side, noticing a few empty, leftover beer bottles on the coffee table from Gilbert's adventure. "You have a hangover?" he sighed.

"I-I'm sorry," he replied, his voice warbling a bit. "I was wrong. I was wrong, but I really wanted you to stay with me. If you remembered… then you would probably leave me behind… So, I'm sorry. Please don't be mad with me…"

Ludwig looked confused yet again. Everyone seemed to be acting funny this morning… "What are you talking about?" he asked, needing clarification.

Gilbert said nothing, but shifted his arm slightly so he could peek at West with one eye. He saw the genuine concern on Germany's face. Did he… not remember? It seemed that way.

Though, in case he remembered himself sometime in the future, Prussia sat up and wrapped his arms around his brother's waist. "Please… forgive me…"

Ludwig patted him on the back, a bit frightened by Gilbert's sudden mood change. Maybe the beer bottles were from this morning, not last night… "I could never really stay mad at you," he reassured Prussia. "You took care of me."

"Yes… I suppose I did…" he quietly said.

…

"Numbers!"

"Ichi!"

"Ni."

Germany stood in front of the two nations, hands on his hips with a stern look. "I realize that I have been absent for the past few days. My apologies. To make up for it, drill is extended today."

Japan's shoulders sunk a bit as he thought about it. His short vacation was now over…

"First, we're beginning with laps. Start running," Ludwig commanded, starting to run himself to get them going.

As usual, Italy was lagging a bit behind, out of breath, while Kiku had dropped out somewhere to most likely play with a local cat.

"Eeyah!!! It's England!" Italy yelped, running faster ahead of Germany in fear.

"Hey! Wait up, damnit!" Ludwig called out as Veneciano was getting away. He sped up his pace a bit to make sure the Italian didn't ditch or get hurt.

For some reason, he really wanted to catch Italy today. He couldn't explain why, but there was this inner urge to do so that was never there before. He pushed himself to achieve this desire, as Italy disappeared.

Ludwig had to find him.

:::

((That's it, sadly. Thanks for sticking with me, everyone, and I hope you enjoyed it. As a not-so-subtle reminder, please let me know how I did.

Take care! And be sure to stop by sometime. I might come up with a new story for these two. Arigato gozaimasu! ))


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